


Time did reverse

by voxofthevoid



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Will, Confusion, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Gutting, Hannigram - Freeform, Kinkmeme, Love, M/M, Prompt Fill, Some Fluff, Temporary Character Death, Top Hannibal, not mizumono though, time reversal, will lives backwards in a time pocket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxofthevoid/pseuds/voxofthevoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time did reverse. But at the end of it all, Will Graham is still in love with a monster.</p><p> </p><p>Or, Will lives backwards in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time did reverse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verybadidea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verybadidea/gifts).



> Written as a birthday fic for my friend. Yep, I wrote her a semi-angsty fic for her bday. Oops.
> 
> This was originally posted as the second chapter of The Ghost and The Darkness, which was meant to be a collection of oneshots. Now I've changed my mind and that will be a three-chapter fic.
> 
> I'll post the actual oneshots as separate stories:-)

There's darkness and then there's light, faces he's never seen and names he's never heard. They know him though, or so they claim. They know him even though he doesn't know himself. 

They tell him his name is Will Graham. A woman, with soft blue eyes and the kindest of smiles, tells him that he's a teacher with seven dogs and a house in the middle of nowhere. She tells him they're friends, though her eyes seem to scream that there's more to it. She doesn't tell him why he's here or who tore him open like this. 

They tell him he killed the Chesapeake Ripper. A heavyset man with a haunted gaze tells him of a monstrous man whom they both saw as a friend. He tells him of dinner parties laden with human flesh and grotesque tableaus. He tells him that he's sorry he let Will get too close. 

He listens to them both and doesn't say a word in response. He can't find the words. 

They tell him he is a hero. 

He doesn't quite believe them. 

~

He's in a large, decadent room, furnished with tasteful but strange artifacts and classy chairs. There's a man standing before him, smiling at him with warmth born of intimacy. 

Neat, blond hair swept back, deep burgundy eyes and a face that is somehow familiar... he knows this man, has seen him plastered all over the news just yesterday, the infamous-

It's the man he killed. 

And finally he- _Will_ , he is Will Graham- speaks, instinctively taking a step back from the smiling specter. 

_You're dead_ , he means to say. 

"You're the Chesapeake Ripper," is what comes out instead. 

Suddenly, there's a body pressed against his, something sharp buried deep in his gut and lilting apologies murmured in his ear, interspersed with endearments. There's a wetness against his cheek that's not blood and Will wonders through the pain if the other is crying. 

He drops to the floor and there's a suffocating pain in his heart he really can't understand. 

Will doesn't know which one of them is more shocked when he pulls out a gun and fires until it clicks empty and the other man is crumpled lifeless on the floor beside him. 

~

He's settled on a rickety chair in a small, white porch and there's a large, shaggy dog at his feet, gazing up at him with its- his, murmurs a quiet voice in his head, it's a he- pink tongue lolling out. The relentless barking catches his attention next and somehow he just knows that it's the joyous rather than threatening kind. 

This is a beautiful place, he thinks absently as his eyes rake over the lovely greenery in search of the animals. He finds them easily enough, bounding about with vibrant energy. 

_Seven dogs and a quiet little house in the middle of nowhere._

It's almost ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice the man amidst the dogs. Despite the stark difference in attire, there's no doubt in Will's mind as to who he is. Not so immaculate now, in a plain white shirt rolled up at the sleeves and dark jeans, hair dark and plastered with sweat, surrounded by noisy dogs... quite a contrast to the pristine man in the opulent office who stuck a knife in Will and died by his hand. 

The Chesapeake Ripper looks over at Will and smiles. 

~

He's in bed and there's someone else there with him. Their bodies are tangled together, forming a single entity of entwined limbs. 

His eyes flash open to fall upon a face carved from marble. 

A face he knows. 

Eyelids eyes flutter as if sensing the scrutiny, revealing deep red eyes that stare at Will with sleepy affection. 

A gentle kiss on forehead and Will sighs, part-confused, part-pleased, as he slips back under. 

~

He's on his hands and knees on the floor, each vigorous thrust of the one buried deep- _god, so fucking deep_ \- inside him pushing him harder against the unforgiving marble. There are fingers digging into the edges of his hips, a body draped along his back and teeth scraping against his vulnerable nape. 

He _knows_  who his lover is, knows that he is being fucked on the floor by none other than Hannibal Lecter. But he can't feel anger or fear or disgust; can't even think past the heat on his skin and the fire in his veins. 

A hand leaves his hip to curl around his cock, the grip tight and _oh so perfect_ , jerking him off with quick, rough motions that send his back arching, lips parted in a helpless moan. He comes with a choked scream, vision whiting out with pleasure as Hannibal fucks him though his orgasm. 

Sharp teeth tear into his shoulder as heat explodes inside him, Hannibal chasing after his own climax, growling through his mouthful of flesh. 

They collapse in an exhausted heap, breathless and panting. Will can hear the other whispering words that he cannot ever hope to comprehend against his skin, lips moving against the abused flesh almost as if in apology. 

But some words don't need to be heard to be understood and Will can feel these down to the very depths of his soul. 

_As tave myliu._

~

It's peaceful. 

He's sitting on the grass; there are long legs bracketing his, an arm thrown around his waist, thin fingers intertwined with his and a sharp chin resting on his shoulder. 

_Why are you always with me_ , he wants to ask but doesn't, instead merely staring at the serene river before them, wondering why feels so comfortable in the arms of a killer. 

"Thank you for sharing this with me, mylimasis," is whispered into his ear and soft lips are pressed to his cheek. 

~

He's curled upon on a couch, feeling as if he's trapped in his own skin. He's trembling, faint tremors that course though his body with little mercy, and his breaths come in shallow pants. His mind feels muddled, hazy like he's living a dream within a dream. 

He's sick, he knows. And he wonders if he's alone. 

When a form appears in front of him, inky black shadows solidifying into a frightfully familiar shape, he knows that he is not. 

"You're running a fever, Will," he hears the man speak, the words falling thick and distorted in his ears. "It's alright, I'll take care of you." 

He doesn't know whether or not he trusts that promise but he's nonetheless grateful for the blissfully cool palm that comes to rest on his forehead, offering both relief and comfort. 

~

They're dancing. 

Slow, halting moments in time with the music, arms looped around each other, bodies held close, cheeks pressed together. It's warm and intimate and Will thinks that it shouldn't feel so _right_ being here like this. 

He turns his head to brush his lips against one chiseled cheek and tastes rather than sees Hannibal's answering smile. 

Despite everything that he knows, Will feels safe here, held like this. 

Perhaps he's a fool. Or perhaps this is just the way it was always meant to be. 

~

"Carne al piatto, with potatoes and asparagus," Hannibal tells him with a smile, placing a beautifully plated dish in front of him. "Quite easily prepared." 

Will looks at the delicate meat slices, waits for nausea to rise and is not entirely shocked when it doesn't. He shoots a glance at Hannibal and feels a pang at the genuine warmth and delight on his face. 

_How far I have fallen._

He smiles, takes a bite. 

It truly is delicious. 

~

Hannibal is laughing. 

He looks younger like this, strangely, inexplicably _innocent_ , like a shade of what he could have been and Will wants to preserve him, to never let this joyous creature fade from the man he-

Realization dawns with a searing jolt. 

He leans across the desk, messily knocking down things in his rush, and kisses Hannibal, swallowing his muffled gasp of shock. 

Falling in love with Hannibal Lecter feels like coming home. 

~

"Will, this is Dr Hannibal Lecter," Jack tells him, "Dr Bloom recommended him as a consultant." 

Painfully familiar brown eyes meet his with cold curiosity, an empty smile gracing those full lips he knows so well, and Will forces himself to smile, to take the hand offered with a steady grip. 

Memories return and there's no dizzying rush, no sharp surprise. They're just there one moment, seamlessly merging with the existing ones of death and blood and love and lips. 

_My name is Will Graham. I'm in Quantico, Virginia._  

 _And I'm still in love with Hannibal Lecter._

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Graham," _His_  monster tells him and Will nearly laughs, though with pain or hope or both he doesn't know. 

He settles for smiling wider, a little warmer, and squeezes the broad hand in his, wanting to bring it to his lips in a claiming kiss. 

"Likewise, Dr Lecter." 

_This time, I'll do us right._ He silently promises himself and the other, the words ringing fiercely, almost desperately in his mind. _This time, we won't end in fire and blood._

**Author's Note:**

> **As tave myliu : I love you  
>  Mylimasis: Beloved**
> 
> This is the actual prompt,
> 
> _Like Merlin, Will has spent his life living backwards in time._
> 
>    
>  _Or; the first time Will meets Hannibal Lecter is when he finds himself in the psychiatrist's office, and says, stunned, "You're the Chesapeake Ripper," because he saw it yesterday on the news, half-delerious on painkillers in a hospital bed. Then Hannibal stabs him in the gut._
> 
>  
> 
> I tweaked it a bit to make it only a specific span of time rather than Will's entire life.


End file.
